My Boys
by footballprincess
Summary: 'I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier, I brought him up to be my pride and joy. Who dares to put a musket on his shoulder, to shoot some other mother's darling boy? Let nations arbitrate their future troubles, it's time to lay the sword and gun away. There'd be no war today, if mothers all would say, I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier' Molly Weasley is sick of the war. Oneshot.


**Author's note:**** We heard this song at school, learning about World War 2. I, being the Potterhead I am, thought it had Molly Weasley written all over it. This was challenging to write, because it's my first songfic and because it's such an intense concept. I can't hope to write this as well as it deserves to be written, but I did my best, so I hope you'll give it a chance and a review.**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Harry Potter, or the song 'I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier.' (Great song, by the way, go listen to it.)**

The old wireless crackled on in the kitchen, as Molly Weasley washed the dishes. Arthur sat at the kitchen table, stirring his tea. There was an air of tension in the house, but there always was, these days. The gloomy gray outside didn't hold a candle to the mood inside the Weasley home.

Bill's wedding had ended in disaster, and Molly didn't know where her oldest son and his new wife were. She didn't even know which side of the grave they were on.

Charlie couldn't even write home anymore, for fear of his owl being intercepted, let alone come for a visit, to be with his family in the time of crisis.

Percy still wasn't talking to them – her son, her own flesh and blood, was on the other side. Her door and her arms were open for him, but he had turned his back on her.

Fred and George's joke shop had become more and more focused on its war division. Her tiny twin terrors were making things to blow people up.

Ron, her littlest boy, was away doing who knew what with Harry and Hermione, three children wandering about all alone.

And her baby girl, Ginny, was at school, leading a rebellion against Death Eater teachers, a rebellion that just made her a target.

Angrily, Molly threw a plate on the ground, where it shattered into pieces. She didn't move, she stood rooted among the sharp shards, tears she didn't know she'd been holding back rolling down her cheeks.

"I hate this, Arthur." She half shouted, half cried. "I hate this war."

"We all do, Molly, dear." Arthur said faintly, surprised by his wife's sudden outburst. She never complained, she shouldered her burden like a little soldier, so he was shocked she had burst out like this. He mumbled a spell that cleaned up the remains of the dish in her hands. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Arthur Weasley!" she snapped. "This war is more trouble than it's worth."

"Molly, dear, please listen." He tried again in an effort to soothe her.

Molly Weasley was in no mood to be soothed and coddled like a baby. She was angry, dammit, and she was going to have her say.

"Do you ever stop and think, Arthur? How many people are fighting in this war? How many people are away from home. Not just on our side, but the Death Eaters too. They're away from their homes and families. They're dying too, and leaving behind families who miss them" Molly said. Her voice was a bit calmer, but Arthur knew from experience she was building to a boiling point.

_Ten million soldiers to the war have gone,_

_Who may never return again._

_Ten million mothers' hearts must break,_

_For the ones who died in vain._

"Molly, darling."

Molly wiped her tears roughly on the sleeve of her dress. "Don't darling me. There are people out there who have suffered worse than me. There are mothers who have lost more. At least my children are all alive."

Arthur didn't mention that they couldn't be sure about Bill, Charlie, and Ron.

"All those people, Arthur. Dead in battle and rotting in unmarked graves." She sniffed, and wiped her tears again.

"Molly, I know times are hard, but there are some sacrifices that-" Molly cut him off again.

"My children are _not_ a sacrifice! Imagine how it would have been without the war. Bill would be home again, and Charlie would visit on weekends, and Percy would talk to us, and Fred and George would be playing pranks, not building tanks. Ron would be graduating in a few months, and Ginny wouldn't be at war in her own school." She said, in an almost daydreamy voice.

"Molly, they will be proud they fought. Can you imagine Fred and George living with themselves knowing they didn't do everything in their power to stop the Dark Lord?"

"I couldn't imagine Fred and George making things to be used as weapons!" she shot back. "This war is turning them into people they swore they wouldn't be! Could you imagine Bill and Charlie, away from home this long if there wasn't a war? Before this, was there a day that went by without Percy telling us he loved us? Could you have dreamed Ron and Harry and Hermione would be the only people who could defeat the Dark Lord? Could you imagine little Ginny, standing up to Death Eaters when she should be out playing Quidditch?"

"Molly, they're brave kids. They'll accept whatever fate has in store for them."

"Well, I won't." she declared.

_Head bowed down in sorrow in her lonely years,_

_I heard a mother murmur thro' her tears:_

"My children weren't meant to be in a war." She murmured, as if realizing it for the first time. "I didn't raise them to be soldiers. I won't let them be. And any sane mother out there won't, either." She finished triumphantly. There had to be other mothers who thought like her. They, too, must have been terrified of sending their little ones out to slaughter. There must have been thousands of mothers all over England, in the lonely kitchens of empty houses, wondering whether their families would still be whole after the war was over.

_I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier,_

_I brought him up to be my pride and joy,_

_Who dares to put a musket on his shoulder,_

_To shoot some other mother's darling boy?_

_Let nations arbitrate their future troubles,_

_It's time to lay the sword and gun away,_

_There'd be no war today,_

_If mothers all would say,_

_I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier._

"Molly, in the end," he started again.

"In the end what, Arthur? It will be worth it? Everything will be all right again?" her voice was rising in pitch and volume. "It will never be worth it. Nothing, not even you-know-who's death will be worth our babies losing so much to this war. It's our children's friends that are dying, Arthur, and our friends' children. Do you tell me that I'm supposed to sit back and let it happen? Do you really believe it will work out in the end, Arthur?"

Arthur gulped. He had witnessed his wife yelling at various points, but this was by far the most frightening.

"It won't, all right? Nothing will be worth so much loss of life."

_What victory can cheer a mother's heart_

_When she looks at her blighted home?_

_What victory can bring her back_

_All she cared to call her own?_

_Let each mother answer in the year to be,_

_Remember that my boy belongs to me!_

"Molly, this war isn't anyone's idea of a good thing, but it has to happen. Voldemort and his followers must be defeated."

"Let them do it another way, then! There's got to be another way. We have to stop this nonsense."

"Molly, I hate to say it, but this nonsense is necessary. It's so our children will have a better future."

"If we keep up this nonsense, Arthur, our children won't have any future at all!" she shouted, smacking her hand onto the countertop.

"Molly, I understand, but"

But Molly would have none of it.

"Men." She humphed. "You don't understand. Those death eaters. That Lucius Malfoy, even. He's someone's son, too. He's someone's brother, and father, and uncle. If he were to die, Arthur, there are people that would miss him. That isn't very different from what would happen to us if something went wrong with Bill, Merlin forbid."

_I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier,_

_I brought him up to be my pride and joy,_

_Who dares to put a musket on his shoulder,_

_To shoot some other mother's darling boy?_

_Let nations arbitrate their future troubles,_

_It's time to lay the sword and gun away,_

_There'd be no war today,_

_If mothers all would say,_

_I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier._

Arthur's brain reeled. He had never thought of it that way; it had always been 'those other people are all gits, and we must defeat them no matter the cost' It had never occurred to him that even the worst of people meant something to someone.

Even you-know-who, really, even Voldemort was someone's son. Wherever his mother was, there must have been a little corner of her heart that loved the little-boy version of him, despite the monster he had become. He was still some mother's son.

"What can we do about it, Mollywobbles?" he whispered, and he knew right then what the legendary Lily Evans-Potter felt like – ready to lay down everything for her little boy.

Molly was silent for a long time, unable to think of something that would help now. There didn't seem to be a solution to gather her children, scattered to the winds, and bring them home safely.

"Do you ever regret anything, Arthur?" she asked thoughtfully. "Ever think back and realize you should have done something?"

"Molly, I-"

"I do." Molly said. "I regret not shoving my finger in Dumbledore's chest and telling him to keep _my_ children out of _his _war."

_I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier,_

_I brought him up to be my pride and joy,_

_Who dares to put a musket on his shoulder,_

_To shoot some other mother's darling boy?_

_Let nations arbitrate their future troubles,_

_It's time to lay the sword and gun away,_

_There'd be no war today,_

_If mothers all would say,_

_I did NOT raise my boy to be a soldier._

**Molly Weasley says, "Review this story AT ONCE!"**


End file.
